The Law of Club and Fang
by Dreolin
Summary: Since Oz first became a werewolf, he felt he must deal with it alone, but when he is abducted by a former Initiative scientist, he comes to realize how truly alone he is. Will his friends be able to save him before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Previously posted on LiveJournal as "The Long Night".

Oz never saw it coming. He had spent the last couple of months on and near the west coast, making it as far north as just outside of Vancouver and as far south as San Francisco. He hadn't been able to bring himself to visit the crater that used to be Sunnydale, even though that had been his original destination after he had left South Dakota. He now found himself leaving a pizza place in Elko, Nevada on his way back to his van, not sure were he was headed next. He was half-way back to the van when he felt a sharp pain in his left bicep. "Huh." was Oz's last conscious thought as he looked at the tranquilizer dart sticking out of his arm.

***

Scent was the first sense to return. The smell of metal. Then touch. Something soft but scratchy. Then hearing. The faint hum as though from a fan or computer. Then taste. The sickly sweet taste was familiar; it was the same taste that had filled his mouth each morning he had woken up after the wolf had to be tranqued. Finally, slowly and heavily, he dragged open his eyes. At first everything was blurry, but as his eyes focused he was able to see the source of the metallic smell. Approximately twelve feet across from where he was lying were metal bars. He carefully raised his head, and realized the bars were not only in front of him, but to his left as well, and on his right was a cement wall. And he was lying on a mattress. He tried sitting up and realized as long as he took it an inch at a time, his head didn't quite explode, and he was able to keep from vomiting. Barely. With sitting up accomplished, he was able to take in more detail. Like the fact that he was sitting on a small mattress and that the concrete wall continued behind him, and on the other side of the bars was the source of the humming. There were a number of computers and what looked like laboratory and medical equipment, and standing among them watching him was a tall slender blonde woman, her hair pulled back from her face.

Oz unsteadily stood up, looking closely at the woman, trying to focus his eyes. "I know you. You were with those army guys. The Initiative."

"Was." She said. "The Initiative ended and was buried beneath Sunnydale."

"Then what is this?"

"I'm Doctor Roberts and you're here to help me." She stepped closer. "The Initiative couldn't see the future. Maggie Walsh and the Initiative could only see the military applications of their studies. They overlooked everything else, and they had no desire to truly learn. I am here to learn. There are whole species of creatures, demon and otherwise, that we really know nothing about. And your friend Buffy understood something Maggie never did, most of these creatures aren't mindless animals, many of them have motives, and many of them aren't necessarily evil. My backers and myself feel there is a lot to be learned from them. And even the ones we can't gain from can provide us knowledge on how to stay safe from them, or eliminate them, if needed. But, my hope is that we can gain medical and genetic applications from them. Healing, life extension, an increase in brain function... There are so many possibilities. But first we must begin to understand a species before we can learn what we can gain from it, and how to understand what it means to us. You, Oz, are the perfect one to start my program with. A study in where the human ends and the beast begins. How the parts of the wolf can affect the human, and possibly be used to improve the human, or how the human can be used to tame the beast. I need to study the physical and the mental.

"We will get started with a few baseline tests and exams before we proceed, but before we begin there are a few things you need to know. First, you'll notice the metal bands around your wrists and ankles." Oz looked down, noticing the narrow bands for the first time. "Those bands are able to give you electric shocks ranging from a mild tingling sensation to unconsciousness. I am able to control them through several devices including this one on my wrist," she held up her left arm where she wore another similar band, this one somewhat thicker and definitely looser, "and from any one of these computers. The bands also react if you attempt to escape by trying to get up the stairs and out the door."

Oz looked behind her to see wooden stairs leading from the middle of the room up to a door. "If you get to the top of the stairs, the bands will react giving you a shock strong enough that it might kill you and if it doesn't, there is a good chance the resulting fall from the stairs will. Both the door to your cell and the locks on the bands are programmed to open only by my thermal fingerprints. The print from which finger is randomly chosen every twenty four hours by the computer, I don't even know what it will be until I check, and it's not just the print that activates them, but also the amount of pressure applied." Oz looked again at the bands on his wrists. At first they looked seamless, but then Oz noticed one thin line that looked as though it might be where the bands opened, but he couldn't see anything that looked like a hinge mechanism. There was a small oval indention on each band, barely deep enough to be noticeable; he assumed this was the lock.

"I wouldn't attempt to get them off, not that you could, but if you were somehow able to force one open, the resulting shock would probably kill you. Now," she said "I need you to put your left arm through the slot;" indicating a horizontal gap in a section of the bars "I need a blood sample."

"I don't think so." Oz unconsciously took a step back.

"I could have taken one while you were unconscious, but I preferred to wait until more of the chemical was out of your system. But," she held up a tranquilizer dart, "we can do it the hard way. Your cooperation would be helpful, but it's not necessary." She picked up a syringe."Now, which will it be?"

She put down the dart and picked up the tranquilizer gun itself. "Now, give me your arm or I will use this, and the next time you wake up you'll be attached to those chains behind you." Oz turned, noticing for the first time the set of chains attached to the wall above the mattress. Oz still hesitated. Then he felt a mild tingling starting in his limbs and moving through his body. The feeling wasn't exactly painful, but it was uncomfortable. Oz looked again at his surroundings and at the woman standing across from him.

Remembering the Initiative Oz made his decision, and with a quiet sigh walked over to the bars, and hesitantly put his right arm through the slot. She tied off the vein and drew the sample efficiently. She divided the samples into a couple of different rubber topped tubes and walked over to the wall to the left of Oz that held a counter with drawers and cabinets above and below . On the counter were a number of different pieces of equipment and there was a refrigerator that sat into a break in the cabinets. She placed one of the tubes in a centrifuge and one in the refrigerator. She then turned back to Oz. "That's a good start."

***

Over the next several days She, which was how he thought of her, spent her time gathering baseline information. As well as an exam table, a treadmill, and an exercise bike in the main lab area, he also came to find there were two rooms behind the stairs that held a surgery suite and a radiology room. The original blood test was the first of many. She also took a full range of x-rays, ultrasound images, a complete physical, and a stress test. She grilled him on his medical history, even though she apparently had somehow managed to get his complete medical records, including dental, which was amazing considering that all his records would have been located in Sunnydale which didn't even exist anymore. When she was wasn't asking questions she rarely spoke to him unless it was to give a direction or admonishment, but she kept notes on a voice recorder. On the same wall of the cell that held the chains and the mattress was an alcove that held a shower, commode, and a small sink; there was no door. She required him to exercise daily, including work on the treadmill, and the meals she brought him were definitely the healthiest ones he had ever eaten. She also made sure that he showered daily and she had replaced his clothes with loose fitting t-shirts and draw string scrub pants.

For the most part Oz cooperated, telling himself that he was waiting for the right opportunity. A few times he had tried refusing what she asked, and he learned first hand how the metal bands worked. The first time, he had refused to participate in the stress testing and she gave him what he thought then was a powerful jolt, with the warning that the shock was no where near full strength and she would increase it each time he refused. Then, declaring the results of the test would be useless if she continued that day, she put him back in his cage. After that, if he appeared hesitant she first gave him a warning, a low grade electric tingling that he felt throughout his body, and if he still refused, then she administered an actual shock. True to her word, each time the jolt was a bit stronger. Finally, he decided the things she was asking of him weren't worth the resistance and he decided he could be patient and bide his time. And besides, as the days approached the full moon, he began to worry what his reaction would be to the jolts. He could already feel the wolf stirring even though the moon was still days away, and he remembered what the tasers did to him and his control when he was with the Initiative during the full moon. And, as much as he hated what was happening to him, and the person who was doing it, Oz never wanted to have to kill anyone ever again. He wanted Veruca to be the last. He still had vivid memories, with the occasional nightmare, of what had almost happened with Tara. Tara, who had every reason to want him out of the picture, and yet was the one who had sent the others to his rescue, even though the wolf had tried to kill her. Not to mention if he killed his captor, he had no way of getting out of the room, and Oz wasn't suicidal.

He found out that She also knew quite a bit about his history with Buffy and their friends. At first he assumed it was information she had picked up from Riley and Buffy's time with the Initiative, but then he realized her information was too detailed. He knew there were some things Buffy would never have shared with the Initiative, and it had been obvious she hadn't shared them with Riley. Riley hadn't even known about Oz being a werewolf until he was captured. He had a feeling she had somehow gotten the information more recently. It gave Oz hope that at least some of his friends may have made it out of Sunnydale, but it also scared him. How had she gotten the information?

The day of the first night of the full moon Oz looked up from where he had been sitting on the mattress to see her standing in front of his cage holding a tray containing a number of items including the charms Oz had worn as part of his rituals to control the wolf. He had assumed he would never see them again, just as he had lost the ones had been wearing the day the Initiative took him.

"Look these over and let me know if there is anything else you need. I did as much research on where you went and what you learned as I could before I brought you here, but it was no where near as thorough as I would have liked. Among other hindrances, Tibetan monks aren't very forthcoming to just anyone regarding these types of secrets. If I don't have everything that you need, will you be able to control the change this time?"

"Maybe... I mean, I have once before, but it wasn't easy, and I had to meditate the entire three nights, even then...I barely held it back. And that was under better circumstances." Oz pointedly looked around the cage.

"Here." She held the tray through the slot for him to take. "Well, the circumstances may not be the best for your internal control, but they're rather ideal for external control if you aren't able to do it."

Oz took the tray and sat back down. He looked through the things then said, "These should do. It's not exact. But, if I am able to stay calm and focused, it should be o.k." He looked back up at her. "You get what I mean, right?"

She almost smiled. "Back off and leave you alone?"

"Yeah. And I'll need matches, or a lighter."

"I don't think so."

"I need to be able to light the ingredients for it to work. There's not much that's flammable in here, what am I going to do?" He looked around, then back up at her. "Set the mattress on fire? Or, myself? What good would that do me? Not big on the flaming martyr bit."

She looked back at him a moment then she nodded slightly, and turned and went up the stairs returning in a few minutes with a book of matches. She opened it, tearing out all the matches but one; then tossed the book though the slot. Oz picked up the matchbook than sat back on the mattress, arranging the items from the tray on the floor in front of him. He sat one of the items, a clay bowl, in front of him then placed the charms, two on bracelet length cords and one on a necklace, into the bowl. He took the herbs and various ground ingredients and poured them one at a time over the charms as he began to chant. He picked up the match, lighting it, and tossed it into the bowl. The mixture in the bowl went up with a slightly green flash, leaving just the necklace and bracelets. Still chanting, Oz put them on. At the end of the spell, Oz closed his eyes, took a breath, and entered a trance.

Throughout She had watched quietly, taking written notes instead of using the recorder. For two hours Oz meditated; then he opened his eyes. He gathered the items together, excluding the necklace and bracelets, and put them back on the tray. He handed them to her through the slot.

Taking the tray from him, she asked, "Is it going to work?"

"We'll know in about a half hour or so." Oz looked up toward the sky that he couldn't see.

"How do you know?" She asked, knowing there were no external light sources or clocks that he could see.

Oz looked at her sardonically. "Werewolf...full moon...reason I'm here... Ringing any bells?"

"Yes. That is why you are here." Her voice hardened. " And that is why I am asking the question. How do you know? Is it a feeling? Do you feel a change in your body? Or is it an external change that you sense? A different scent? The air pressure. Or, what?" She took step forward closer to the bars. Oz saw in her eyes for the first time how dangerous she truly was. In her eyes there was a sudden coldness as she asked the questions; a clinical detachment as though she could no longer see him. He felt as though she were trying to look inside him, mentally dissecting him, picking through his soul looking for her answers. Oz took a step back, thinking that if he answered maybe that would be enough and those eyes would look away.

"It's a feeling, but the air's different too. And there's more. It's hard to explain. It didn't used to be like that. The first months...I didn't know until the change was almost on me. For the first couple, I had no idea. But, each month there was a little more information. It was the same with realizing what parts of the wolf were carrying over. Like when I first realized just how much I could smell, and that I understood what I was smelling, when I wasn't the wolf."

The eyes didn't change, they still looked at him coldly, excitedly, as she asked in rapid succession; "The first time you realized, what was it that you noticed? What was the first sense to carry over? What were you doing when you noticed?"

Oz, remembering exactly the moment took another step back, closing in on himself, eyes or no eyes. "I don't want to talk about it."

"That's not an option." Her voice held a slight edge.

"It's not important!" Oz's voice held a hint of the wolf, almost a growl; his own eyes hardening.

Not cowed, she said, "I believe it is, and you need to tell me. You will tell me, one way or another. Just how unimportant it is, is up to me."

"It was fear," Oz said sharply, "Willow's fear!"

Oz would never forget his own fear that night. The fear that Willow would be lost to him, and he was almost right, just not in the way he expected. The night Spike took Willow and Xander. The night Cordelia almost died a stupid and pointless death when she and Oz had found them. Found them because of Oz's sense of smell. Found them kissing. He had never felt so hurt, or abandoned. But that hurt had led him to the realization of how much Willow was a part of him, and then he turned around and hurt her a thousand times more. And that, in the long run, led him to truly losing her.

"What was she afraid of?"

"What?" It took effort for Oz to return to the present not wanting to leave the past that, for whatever hurt it held, also held Willow.

"What was she afraid of? You said you smelled her fear. What was she afraid of?"

"A vampire." Oz turned his back to her, his voice thick with emotion and with the wolf. "A vampire, that's what she was afraid of, and that's all you're getting."

"And," Oz said closing his eyes and taking a breath fighting the rising wolf, "if you don't want your night's "experiment" to be wasted, you'll back off like I said."

"Fair enough. But, we will be talking more about what signals these changes."

***

The next few hours Oz struggled to remain relaxed, focusing on preventing the change. He was unsure of his control and was afraid to try sleeping. She was setting at her desk, watching him and waiting. She had turned off the overhead lights; the room dimly lit by the glow of the computer screens and one small lamp on her desk. In the quiet semi-darkness Oz's mind kept returning to Willow. Even now, everything in his world came back to Willow. He told himself he had to stop thinking about her, not just because it was painful, but because it was making it harder to keep the wolf back. After being with the Initiative, after losing Willow, he had never regained the control he had fought so hard for, but this time was the hardest. Having someone's eyes on him, coupled with the thoughts of Willow, was destroying his concentration. And, the ingredients weren't exactly right, and he could tell the difference. When dawn finally arrived he was exhausted, and he wanted just to sleep.

"Is it over?" Her voice cut through the haze.

Oz took a breath and looked at her. "Yeah."

"Does it normally put that much strain on you?" She stared intently at him, pen poised over her clipboard.

Oz considered not answering, partly because he was so tired that he didn't think he cared what she did, and partly because he didn't know what to say, or how much he should say. Apparently he waited too long to answer, because he felt his arms begin to tingle from the bands, and he made his decision. "Not usually this bad."

She spent the next hour grilling him on the change and its control. For the most part Oz told her the truth; his thoughts were so muddled from the exhaustion that he seemed unable to even think past the truth. Finally, seemingly satisfied she stood up from the desk and turned off the recorder. Then she brought him a bottle of water which he finished almost before he realized it was in his hand.

"Get some sleep." She said taking back the empty bottle. "I'll be back with food later. And don't think I've forgotten; eventually we will be discussing the first time you realized you were maintaining some of the wolf aspects when you were in human form." She turned and started up the stairs. Oz, too tired to worry about her parting comment, lay down on the mattress and was asleep instantly.

The next night was even harder. The second night always was. He had never regained the amount of control he had had before Tara and the Initiative. Afterward, he never risked interacting with people during the full moon, at least not to the extent he did when he had returned to Sunnydale foolishly thinking he was safe and in control. For the first couple of months after he had left Sunnydale for the second and final time, he had been completely back to square one, actually worse than square one, because he had to be careful of the wolf during the days of the full moon as well as the nights. Slowly he began rebuilding his defenses, and some months were easier than others. Some months he was able to function for the most part normally, others he couldn't even let his guard down enough to sleep.

And now this night, with the circumstances and the hodgepodge of ingredients he had, he was afraid at first that he wouldn't be able to fight back the wolf, particularly after the previous night's experience, but this time the wolf tried to push through so suddenly that he instinctively pushed back, which enabled him to stay focused as he had no chance to let his mind begin to wander. This time she waited until he had had a chance to rest before she began the interrogation, taking him back through, what seemed like to him every moment of the night, and how he had been able to keep the wolf from breaking through. Even when he had been learning to control the wolf, he had never tried to break down or analyze what it was he was doing, or why it worked, and he found he had trouble doing so. However, she was good at what she did and her questions and re-wordings of questions and her painstaking attention to detail actually helped him sort out what he felt and what he was doing and put them into words.

The third night was the easiest. The wolf was receding, waiting to be strong enough to try again the next month. This night she kept the questions more generic, less about this specific change and more about the changes in general, and how they compared to these last three. Then the moment he hadn't quite been able to push out of his mind; she asked him about the first time he realized he was experiencing heightened senses. This time, he was a little more prepared and was able to mentally step back just enough to keep the sharper pain away, using the past two days' interrogation experiences to help as a buffer. He made himself step back with a clinical detachment. He got the feeling that wasn't what she wanted, that she wanted more of his emotional feelings, but he planned to keep those to himself as long as he could. So he took her through the events, but almost as though he was in third person. Describing the physical, what he smelled, when he first noticed that he could smell fainter scents stronger than before, how he began to categorize them, like how he knew not only that it was Willow that he smelled, but that she was afraid. How that was the first time he realized, or acknowledged, what it was that he smelled; and that he understood something that he shouldn't have been able to.

The next days following his first full moon in captivity, she started the mental testing, focusing on his memory, concentration, and attention to detail. For awhile he played around with his answers, but that didn't last long as she quickly picked up on what he was doing. Oz knew he had never been a particularly good liar, and there was obviously nothing wrong with her perception.

When the month passed and the second full moon arrived, she followed the same procedure as the previous month, with the exception that she had followed Oz's suggestion of replacing some of the spell's ingredients with more exact ones, which helped somewhat with his control.

Again, each morning after Oz's change, she grilled him on every aspect of what he remembered as the change had tried to come over him, comparing these three with what he had told her and what she had observed from the previous full moon.

***

A few days after the second moon with her had passed; she was sitting at the desk working on her written records when she suddenly broke the silence. "It's amazing how completely you've cut yourself off from your own life. I know more about what has happened to those you called your friends than you do."

Oz tried to look uninterested, he tried to feel uninterested, but she was right; he had cut himself off completely from Sunnydale after leaving the second time. He had called his parents a couple of times, and sent a couple of letters to them, and that was all. Then he heard about the destruction of Sunnydale and suddenly he had no where to call, no place to send letters. He tried his parent's cell numbers, then his aunt and uncle's, but three of them reached people he didn't know and the fourth didn't work at all. All of the news reports had said that amazingly there were few if any people still left in the city when it was destroyed. Everyone seemingly had made a mass exodus. And he had to believe that his family made it out ok, but Willow, Buffy, and the others, they would have stayed to the end. He knew in his heart that he would have known if Willow had died, but what about the others? Once he had tried to contact Angel in L.A., and had finally gotten a number for him at a law office of all places, but he couldn't get his call put through. Apparently, they thought Angel had better things to do. He wanted to know what happened. He had removed himself from their lives, but they were still his life. He wanted to know, but he couldn't bear to ask her.

As though reading his mind she said, "Don't worry Oz. You won't need to beg me to tell you. I can only understand your human side if I understand your emotional attachments, and one of the best ways to do that is to help you explore the lives of your friends, how they continued without you while your life seemed to stop. Where should I start? How about with Willow?"

Over the next few days, during their other "sessions" she told him what she knew, which apparently was a lot. Her backers, he still didn't know if they were government, private business, or something else altogether, had what Oz considered spies. And frighteningly, at least one of them was a slayer, although Oz wasn't able to figure out if the slayer knew that she was feeding information, or if she was being used. Another source of information was Harmony, who had apparently worked for the same law firm as Angel, and was very willing to talk; at least that much hadn't changed since High School.

Oz couldn't believe how much had happened after he had left; how much had changed. Although he was thankful that most of his friends were alive, it was painful to hear what they had gone through, and to know that he had not been there with them. As She told him the story, she questioned him, weighing his reactions to her words. When she told him of Tara's death and Willow's reaction, he felt numb. He didn't know whether he could believe that it was true. He had no proof that anything She was telling him was true, but until that moment he hadn't doubted her. Now, that was all he wanted to do. He didn't want to believe what Willow had done, and what she had become. And a small, jealous, shameful part of himself wondered if she would have ever reacted to his death in the same way. That was one reaction he fervently hoped that She didn't guess. If she did, then she didn't comment on it. He also learned that it was Xander who had stopped Willow. And Oz felt another pang of jealousy. Jealousy, that Xander knew, and always had known, Willow so well. Jealousy, that Xander had been there for her.

She went on to tell Oz of Buffy's death and resurrection, which was one of few things that Oz had actually heard. In certain places he had been, it was the equivalent of the six o'clock news. Fortunately, by the time he had heard of Buffy's death, the resurrection had already taken place, so he had never had to deal with the emotions her permanent death would have caused. But, unfortunately, it gave him one more reason to avoid seeking Willow out. If he had heard of Buffy's death before the resurrection, he realized, it might have given him enough reason to check in on his friends.

Something he hadn't heard, however, was about the potentials and their activation as slayers. With that tale, also came the knowledge of Anya's death, how exactly Sunnydale had come to be destroyed, the re-souling of Spike, the loss of Xander's eye, and of Kennedy...

***

The day of the first night of the next full moon, his third with Her, Oz had been expecting the same pattern she had followed the previous two. But as the night approached she still hadn't brought him the ingredients for the spell. He still had the charms; she had let him keep them after the last full moon. Then at what Oz guessed to be about an hour before the moon was to rise, She stood up from the desk where she had been writing and approached him.

"I assume you have been wondering why I haven't given you the ingredients you need for the spell. I feel it's time to see how well you do with just the charms and meditation." She said.

Oz didn't reply; he had already guessed it would be something along those lines.

"You might want to get ready."

Oz looked away then went to his mattress and sat down. He debated on taking his clothing off in case he couldn't prevent the change, but two things stopped him, first he felt that he would be admitting defeat, second he didn't want to take his clothes off in front of Her if he didn't have to. He had already been forced to do it too many times already.

The night seemed to last forever. Oz was able to maintain control, but just barely. He kept his focus on blocking the wolf, meditating on his Self. Who he was without the wolf, but it wasn't long before his doubts began to shake his tenuous hold. Who was he now? He wasn't the person he had been before the wolf, or the person he was when he had been with Willow. Who was the person he was without Willow? He wasn't sure he had ever really existed after Willow, not in any way that he could use to protect against the wolf. There just wasn't enough to hold onto. So, when he felt the wolf pushing harder, demanding his attention, he shifted his focus. Instead he tried focusing on Willow, the Willow he knew before he had broken her heart, but that only served to call more to the wolf. The reminder of what he had lost stirred the wolf's rage.

Then he tried thinking of nothing, just listening to the quiet hum of the machinery and the occasional sound of paper and pen rustling as She took her notes. However, that just served to make him less focused and more lethargic. Finally, when he didn't think he was going to make it any longer, he felt the dawn.

As she had done the previous months, she grilled him on every aspect of the night. He tried to greatly edit what his thoughts had been, trying to steer her completely away from discovering his doubts, but he felt that she had picked up on them anyway. He was just thankful that she hadn't pursued her suspicions; until he realized that she didn't need to, she had realized his unsurety of his identity before he had.

When the second night arrived, Oz was unable to keep the wolf back for more than a few minutes past sundown. He had spent the day trying to forget the doubts that had risen up the night before and reviewing the things that were still important to him, which turned out to be sadly few, trying to focus on positive images. Then when night arrived, he tried to focus only on his breathing, practicing concentrative meditation, but without the spell to help keep it away the wolf stayed in his thoughts and by time he tried to shift his focus, to try another method, it was too late.

The third night, Oz tried a different approach. Instead of trying to concentrate on keeping his mind still, or focusing on himself, he tried focusing on just the wolf. Examining each minute detail of the wolf's push forward, each part of his body as the change tried to come, and as the change would start, he would focus on what each part of his body felt like when he was fully himself, and concentrated on those feelings. Where in the past he would have mentally tried to forcibly push the wolf away, this time he purposefully let himself feel the change's beginning so he could compare it to how his body normally felt and then focus on that feeling. Reconstructing it in his mind and setting aside the feelings of the change as they arose.

When instinct told him dawn had arrived, he felt exhausted, but he was also surprised that he had made it through the night without the change. And, when she started her now routine questioning, she seemed more interested in this night than any of the others. She had him go over and over every detail even though he was having difficulty putting into words exactly what he had done, and he had no idea what had made him try this particular method when none of his teachings, or experiences had ever suggested it. Finally, when she realized he was literally falling asleep, she stopped the questions and went to review her notes.

Over the next month, while waiting for the inevitable next moon, during the times she left him alone, Oz occupied himself with trying to come up with a way out. And, with each new scenario, he arrived at the same conclusion; with the bands still on there would be no way out. Not even if he killed her, and if he killed her, he would either die trapped, or the people she reported to would come and either he would die anyway, or he would be back where he started, maybe worse. And he would have taken a life, a human life while he was in human form, and Oz didn't know if he was ready for that yet.

When the next moon arrived, now the fourth, she took away the charms. At first Oz refused, but when she retrieved the tranquilizer gun, he relented. Charms or no, he had no doubt that he was beyond being able to hold back the change if he were unconscious. Relying on the method he had used during the third night of the last moon, he was able to keep the wolf back all three nights, although each night took a heavy toll. After her debriefings he would immediately fall asleep and stay that way until late evening, leaving him just enough time to eat the meal she brought before having to start the whole thing over. After the third night, and it's following debriefing, were over, he slept for the next 27 hours. If she had attempted to waken him during that time, he had no memory of it. She never returned the charms or the ingredients for the spell.


	2. Chapter 2

A few months later Oz had been sitting in his cell, not really noticing his surroundings, but not quite meditating when a sudden question jerked him back to himself. "Which do you prefer broken? Toes or Fingers?"

"What?! Pretty sure neither!" Oz heard the note of fear in his own voice.

"I thought I would give you the choice of which ones. Make no mistake, you don't get a choice as to whether or not they will be broken, but you will be the one living with it, and as it doesn't matter to me which ones they are, I thought you should get that much of a choice. I just need it to be a set, the same one on each side of the body. The first one I will break at the half way point between the third night of the full moon and the first night of the next moon. The second I will break during the second night of the following full moon, while you are in wolf form to compare the rate of healing. If you don't choose, I'll choose for you and maybe I'll pick the thumbs, and if not done carefully I'm betting it would be problematic for a guitarist. Or, have you thrown that part of your life away too? If you keep giving up things, maybe there won't be anything left of you, or the human you anyway. Hmmm, would that mean the wolf would get a deeper hold? She smiled.

"Well, maybe we'll find out before it's over. Of course, if that's the case I wouldn't be able to let you go after all... Maybe that's what you want, to finally give up so that you have a reason to not fight for the part that is you. But that's not my concern, just an idle observation... So, which is it? Toes or fingers?"

Oz looked away. "Toes."

***

She took care with the actual procedure. She gave him a mild sedative and strapped him to the exam table, then injected a local anesthetic. She carefully and precisely braced the middle toe of his right foot stabilizing the second and third joints then snapped the bone between the joints. She immediately applied an ice pack and taped the toe to the one next to it, placing gauze padding between the two. As soon as the sedative had worn off enough, she moved him to the small x-ray room and took radiographs of the toe. She then moved him back to his cage and helped him back to his mattress, then she propped his foot up on a couple of pillows she had brought with her for that purpose.

Over the following days she laid off many of what had become his daily routines, particularly the physical exercises. She also gave him the only pair of shoes he'd had since she had brought him there, a wooden pair of sandals, which made walking easier. While waiting for the full moon, she kept a careful eye on how the toe was healing, taking an x-ray every seven days, carefully shielding him from as much scatter radiation as possible. She made her measurements carefully to help ensure a clear picture to reduce the number of takes necessary, and adjusted the beam in as close as she could to reduce the amount of scatter radiation.

When the next moon arrived, she knew she had to work carefully since she had taken his charms away, and had stopped actively allowing him to fight the transformation. He had already become shaky in his control of the wolf during the nights of the full moon, aside from the nights where she had purposefully helped bring the wolf out. There had been a few nights when he had lost complete control and became the wolf, without any encouragement on her part at all. On the nights that happened, he had not been able to regain control, unable to return to human form until morning. Shortly before sundown, she had Oz undress and climb onto the exam table and strapped him down. This time she injected him with a much stronger sedative, strong enough to render human-Oz unconscious. She then prepared his left foot in the same manner she had his right. When the sun had set, she gave him a severe shock, but even unconscious Oz's self fought the transformation, in the end it took three jolts. As soon as he transformed she made the break. The wolf stirred, fighting the sedative. Quickly she gave him a second injection, this time enough to keep the wolf asleep. She checked his restraints, put on an icepack and prepared to work through the night so she could keep an eye on Oz in case he were to rouse, or have trouble breathing.

It was late in the morning before the now human Oz woke up enough to move. Still under the effects of the sedative, she gingerly helped him into the radiology room and took the pictures as quickly as she could, then helped him dress. She then helped him to his mattress, and in a repeat of the last time she taped the newly broken toe, replaced the icepack, and elevated both feet.

Over the months, the constant state of anxiety began to make way for a constant state of boredom. She had begun spending more time reviewing the information she had already gained and less time directly interacting with him. There were also more gaps of time when she would leave the lab during the day. Oz didn't know where it was she went during those times, but he had noticed that frequently she came back smelling of the same scents. A certain group of people; and he assumed those people were the ones she reported to. He also noticed that there was one scent from that group that occasionally showed up on its own. It was a male scent, and one that was pungent, sweaty. He also noticed the times that he picked up that scent without the accompanying scent of the group that she came back acting fidgety and smelling slightly fearful.

One day out of sheer boredom, Oz asked her, "Who's the sweaty guy?" He felt some petty satisfaction when the question caused her to jerk just enough that the needle she was preparing to insert into a rubber toped sample tube slide, stabbing her in the finger. She glared at him and didn't answer.

Oz tried to keep his mind occupied, but it became harder with time and he began to fear that he might never leave the room alive. He had come no closer of solving the problem of deactivating the bands on his wrists and ankles which he saw as his main hindrance to escape, and escape had become the only thing he could focus on. He began to think through everything he had learned, everything she had said to him, and he started to convince himself that there was a chance that she had lied about the boundary at the top of the stairs. He only had her word, and he felt that maybe that wasn't good enough.

Oz had been with her a full year when he made his move. He waited until the next time she needed him out of the cage. He had realized that he would need a weapon, and despite everything he didn't want to kill her. He had decided on the IV pole. When he exited the cage he followed her over to the exam table, and waiting until she was turned slightly away from him, he shoved her forward giving him time to grab the pole, hurrying backwards away from her as she regained her balance and turned back around.

"Oz, where do you think you're going? Put the pole down. Even if you kill me, those bands aren't going to let you get any further than the top of those stairs."

Oz started moving sideways, holding the I.V. pole in front of him, like a staff, the wheeled end at the top. "I don't know that. I only know that's what you say."

"You know they work otherwise, why would I lie about that?" She slowly stepped closer holding up her hand placating.

"Don't! Don't come any closer!" Oz shifted his hold on the pole, raising it slightly. Oz glanced at the counter, the equipment: the microscope, centrifuge, slides, blood tubes. Samples...samples of him. He looked back at her. She had followed his gaze, knew what he was thinking. As he raised the pole and took aim at the counter's contents she shouted, "Do it and I will just start over!" It was enough to make him pause.

She took another step forward. "If you do that, it could taint everything, and I'll start over. And, it will be that much longer before you get out of here, and if you do manage to get out of here on your own, and we lose you, we'll find someone else to take your place. Did you know your friend Angel is dating a werewolf? Different breed. Might be interesting to compare the data. It would be a shame to separate her from her family. She has a niece you know. That reminds me, I hear you have a cousin...Jordy?"

Oz raised the pole and ran forward yelling, no longer aiming for the counter, but taking aim at her head. She quickly grabbed the device on her wrist and before he reached her, electricity coursed from the bands on his wrist and ankles through his body, stronger than any of the previous jolts. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

Oz came to slowly and painfully. He was on the mattress, wrists enclosed in the chains on the wall behind him. Ankles in shackles and his clothing and blanket were gone.

"So, you're finally awake. I thought you might need a lesson in what might have been. Apparently you've forgotten your time with the Initiative. I told you the truth when I told you they were finished, but I am not working alone. You were right about that. Fortunately, those I answer to are like myself, they are interested in learning and how to put that knowledge to use once it's learned. At least for now. They are not about blind violence, or meaningless cruelty, but if anything happens to me, or the political tide turns, the man who is set to take my place isn't of the same mind set. He is a soldier first and a scientist second. His goal isn't to learn and apply, his is study to destroy. With him in charge you would have no chance of getting out of here alive. And, after that little stunt you pulled, I need to make sure you understand. You know that "sweaty guy"? The one you asked me about, the one that is making me so nervous? Don't look so surprised, I know you can tell I am by my scent. He's the one, and he is just itching for something to go wrong so that he can take over. So, if I get hurt or die, or if they decide I can't handle it - can't handle you - he'll be the one in charge. At least as far as you are concerned. So, for the next few days you are going to get a reminder of who's in charge, and comparatively, a very mild taste of what it would be like if I were not."

For several days following Oz's attempt at escape, she kept true to her word. Oz was given no clothing, no blanket, and the only time he wasn't chained to the wall was during the times her experiments required it, or the four times a day he was allowed to use the bathroom. She never spoke to him unless it was a direction or correction, and she didn't acknowledge anything he said unless it was in response to her questions. The few times he had tried to force the issue; he was reprimanded with jolts from the bands. Finally, after several days, she quietly unlocked the shackles, handed him his clothing and blanket, and told him to shower.

When he was finished, she had him hold out his arm through the slot in the bars and she removed the band from that wrist. Without a word, she took the band and tossed it up toward the door at the top of the stairs. The resulting electrical jolt was loud, visible, and ended with the band thrown violently back into the room below, landing with a clatter. The smell of ozone almost overpowering to Oz's nose. Using a pair of forceps, she picked up the slightly smoking band and sat it on the desk, clearly visible to Oz.

"I think we'll just let it cool off a little." And with that she went back to her papers.

***

The weeks had begun to blend together until Oz had even lost track of the number of full moons that had passed. Without consciously realizing it, Oz had given up on thoughts of escape. With hope of escape gone he started to become lost in his memories; memories and regrets. The same memories, the same regrets. Over and over. He had learned that She wouldn't answer any of his questions unless it was a subject that she had broached first, and as she had accumulated more information from him, both from her own questions and the test results, she spent less time interacting with him and more time studying the information, leaving him alone with his thoughts for long periods of time.

"What the hell are you doing?

Oz, startled, looked up. What was she talking about? He watched as she came off the stairs and up to the cell door, looking up at her from the mattress. He suddenly realized that he hadn't really noticed that she had been gone. That had been happening a lot, and felt he probably should be worried about it. He watched as she walked away from him to the counter along the side wall where much of the diagnostic equipment set. She reached in the cabinet above and took down a bottle of antiseptic and some rolled gauze. Then from the jar on the counter she took out a handful of cotton balls. She carried them to the work desk in front of the cell, and set them down. She then pulled the chair from behind the desk and rolled it around to the other side. She came back to the cage and opened the door, motioning him to come out. Slowly he got up and walked past her out of the cage, his eyes never leaving her face. She pointed to the chair. "Sit."

After he sat down he watched her open the antiseptic and soak a cotton ball with it, still not comprehending. She took his right wrist and raised his arm. Then he looked at his arm. There were deep red scratches on the back of his forearm from elbow to wrist. Blood actively oozing from the lines. He looked at his other forearm, it matched the first. Then he looked at his fingernails, trapped underneath them were blood, some of it already dry and crusted, and flecks of skin. Another thing he had no memory of, and this time he was worried. "Damn." he said quietly.

While he had taken stock of his arms, she had been cleaning the scratches, and removing the dried blood; she then loosely wrapped the gauze around his arm, and then repeated the process on his left arm. She left him sitting in the chair, never turning her back as she retrieved her voice note recorder.

"The subject appears to have been in a semi-catatonic state. When I returned to the lab, I found him engaged in self-mutilation, using his fingernails to make numerous lacerations to both forearms. The subject appears to not have realized what he was doing. Will need to observe this development, and may need to alter protocol to help prevent such occurrences in the future.

Oz looked up, focusing on her, trying to process what she had just said. "Protocol?" He asked.

Not answering, she motioned for him to stand and led him back to the cell, locking the door behind him. "Wash your hands."

The next day she brought him a book. It wasn't worn, but obviously had been read. It held her scent as though it had shared space with her for some time. The scent was layered, newer scent on top of old. It was a nonfiction book, a book on the habitats of North American mammals with numerous photographs. The text was obviously written with a layman in mind, no scientific jargon. He took it as she handed it to him through the slot. It wasn't a book he would have picked for himself, and yet he wasn't aware of a time that he was happier to have a book in his hand. He looked her in the eye and said, "Thank you."

She simply nodded once and walked away.

After that she began to bring him things to occupy his time. More books, a Gameboy, and a guitar. The guitar he wasn't allowed to keep when she wasn't in the lab since the strings could be used as a weapon against himself. She also talked more, both to him directly and to herself as she was working; thinking out loud.

***

Oz had woken up and was getting dressed the morning after the third night of the current full moon, when he noticed something was different. It was so unexpected, and it had been so long, it took him a few moments to realize what it was. There had been strangers in the lab. He literally could smell it. As he was realizing this, She came out of the surgery suite and around the staircase. "Good morning Oz."

"What's going on?" Oz glanced over her shoulder looking behind her toward the surgery, feeling uneasy.

"I had a delivery last night, some additional equipment. I have a theory that I want to test, and I wanted to start as soon as the moon was over, while your rate of healing is as high as possible without you being in wolf-form." She walked over to the bars, an unusual, and uncharacteristic, bounce to her step, and continued. "I have been working on a theory of how lycanthropy is transferred. We know it has to be through a bite, scratches won't do it, and we know the bite has to break the skin. We also know that it isn't carried through saliva, although there are some additional enzymes there that are of interest. My theory is that it has to do with the teeth, specifically that the teeth are injecting the agent into the body. I know the contagion manifests itself in a supernatural fashion, but I believe the means with which it is spread is more mundane. I noted that you still have all of your 'adult' teeth and two wisdom teeth. The exam and the dental x-rays I took didn't show the other two. Were they pulled, or did they never come in?"

Oz wasn't sure where this was leading, but he doubted he would like it. "They never came in. The two that are there came in not long after I was bit, and I haven't been to a dentist since before then. You should know that. You said you had the records."

"I do, but there was a chance you had seen another dentist, and we missed it. Your records show that the only teeth you have ever had extracted were two, deciduous -baby- teeth when you were a child. Is that right?"

"You know it is."

"Oz, I plan on extracting one of your teeth today." She said, almost cheerfully. "That's what the delivery was for. I didn't have all the right equipment. I want to do this without general anesthesia; I don't have any help, and there is always some risk with anesthesia no matter the circumstances. So I am going to need your cooperation."

Oz shook his head in disbelief. "You want my help to help you pull one of my teeth?"

"I am going to try to make it as easy on you as possible. But you will need to do what I tell you."

"Like I have a choice." Oz crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Not if you want to keep this as painless and easy as possible."

Oz sighed as she opened the cell and guided him into the surgery. Overnight, while he slept as the wolf, it had been outfitted with dental instruments and a dental chair. She seated him in the chair using the attached restraints on both arms and his right leg. "If you start choking, or have trouble breathing, use your left leg to kick back on the chair to let me know, otherwise stay still. There is also a head restraint attached to the chair." She indicated the straps on each side of his head. "But, I am going to trust you to hold steady on your own. Just remember you will only hurt yourself if you start to struggle, or try anything. Also, if the tooth I am trying for breaks off, which can happen even if you don't move, then I will have to try for another."

She put on her gloves, and picked up a tube of gel. "I'm going to use this to numb the gums; then I'll use this," she picked up a syringe, "to numb the entire area. Then, hopefully, I will get the tooth extracted quickly in one piece. Then I'll put it in this, "she held up a specimen jar of white liquid, "and I'll pack the socket with gauze. And, hopefully, we will be finished with that part for a month, with the exception of keeping tabs on how it's healing. Do you have any questions?"

Oz, leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and shook his head slightly.

The procedure went as planned and after packing the socket and giving him a cold pack to help keep the swelling down, she put him back in his cell.

***

It was on the third day after the procedure that Oz noticed that the skin that was just starting to close over the socket had started opening back up. He ran his tongue over the area and felt something sharp sticking out. Cautiously, he took his finger and ran it over the spot. There was definitely something there. Gingerly, he pushed on it, it didn't move. He looked up to see Her watching him. "What is it?" She asked.

"There's something there."

She walked over to the bars, picking up a light and a tongue depressor on her way. "Let me see."He came over to the bars and opened his mouth letting her use the light and the depressor to look. "It looks like bone..."

She opened the cell and led him over to the desk chair, sitting him down to get a better look. Using the depressor to move his cheek aside, she took a closer look. "I need to take a radiograph to be sure it isn't just a broken piece of bone that has worked its way through, but I think it's a tooth. It must be regenerating."

Oz looked up at her, unable to say anything due to the piece of wood still in his mouth. She leaned back removing the tongue depressor and turning off the light. "Well, let's see what we've got..."

***

The x-ray showed what she had predicted. There was a new tooth coming in to replace the one that was extracted. "Well," she said, "I didn't expect this, but I shouldn't be surprised. The lycanthropy is transferred from host to host through the teeth. You take away the teeth, the line can be broken, and so it is in the contagion's best interest to ensure that won't happen. And even in nature there is precedence. I just wonder if it will work the same way while the host is in wolf-form. I can't imagine why not, in fact it would be even more likely, since most bites happen while the host is in wolf-form and attacking. You were a rarity in that you were bitten by your cousin while he was in human-form."

***

Two weeks later she had her initial results on the tooth she had pulled, the tooth that had already grown completely back in. The results, combined with a series of experiments she had conducted while waiting, showed that there was a combination of factors that brought about the release of the contagion. The pressure of the bite triggered the release into and through the pulp of the tooth, while at the same time the enzymes of the saliva mixed with the blood of the victim causing microscopic fissures to temporarily open in the surface of the tooth freeing the toxin from the pulp of the tooth into the victim's bloodstream.

When the next full moon arrived, she pulled another tooth under general anesthesia, while he was in wolf-form. This time the procedure was more difficult, the first tooth she tried broke off, as she had warned him they could. She went ahead and removed the rest of it, but she still needed a whole one for her tests, so she pulled a second one. Fortunately this one came out easier, and whole. The next morning after he had woken up, she moved him back to his cage with an icepack. His jaw was swollen and the bruising was already beginning to show when she gave him pain medication. That night, the second of the full moon, he was unable to keep the wolf from coming out, he was barely able to put up a fight. When the transformation was complete she noticed that even in wolf-form his jaw appeared swollen, and the wolf appeared to even more discontent than usual, most likely from the pain.

When Oz regained his human form the next morning, the bruising and swelling had spread under his eye. She gave him more pain medication and led him into the surgery to examine the two empty sockets. However, the sockets weren't empty. The new teeth had already broken through the still swollen gums. Apparently being in wolf-form did hurry the regeneration process.

***

Oz watched Her as she prepared the injection. An injection usually meant sedation, and sedation usually meant something painful. The only times she used a sedative was either when she needed to work with the wolf, or when it was going to be painful. Maybe he should be thankful he thought if that was the case, because even though sedatives usually meant something that could be painful, she didn't always give him a sedative before she did something painful. When she had broken his toes, she had sedated him, but she had also wanted the breaks to be precise. She had cut each of his forearms, one while he was in human-form, the other in wolf, to compare his skin's rate of healing, and while she had sedated him before he took wolf-form to make that cut, she had not even given him a local when she made the cut to his human self.

She opened his cell door, stepping back waiting for him to come out. Oz didn't move, looking at the syringe. "Come on." She said.

When he didn't move she activated the bands and the tingling sensation filled his body. Oz still didn't move.

"Don't be ridiculous, you know how this will end. Come on."

Oz stood his ground, but the jolt she gave him caused him to stumble and gasp.

"Damn it, Oz! Out here now!"

Oz bent over, hands on knees, catching his breath. Then he looked up at her. "No."

This time the jolt knocked him to the floor and he vomited.

"That was your last chance." Her voice was unnaturally calm. "Out here now, or I will drag your unconscious body out here."

She watched as Oz slowly tried to stand. It took him three tries before he was able to stand, somewhat shakily, upright. He took two trembling breaths, eyes watering, then slowly put one foot in front of the other. She stood back to allow him entrance to the room, and gestured toward the exam table. Oz slowly made his way, only stumbling once. When he finally reached it, he realized he wasn't going to be able to get on to it without help, even using the pulled out step.

"Go on. Get up there and lie back."

Oz put one hand on the table to brace himself and put one foot on the step, then tried to bring up his second foot, but his knee buckled throwing him chin first against the table. The impact was hard enough that he bit his tongue.

"Here." She grabbed him under his arms, half-lifting him to his feet, and then helped manage to get him lying on the table. She buckled the restraints, and took the capped syringe out of the pocket of her lab coat where she had put it while he made his way across the room. She started to rub his arm with an alcohol swab, but seeing the hematoma from the last blood draw, she switched to the other side. She then slowly injected the drug into his vein. He was unconscious before the plunger had stopped.

When Oz awoke he was still secured to the table and he felt a repetitive twinge in his abdomen. He turned his head slightly and saw a syringe lying on the counter between the blood analyzer and the microscope. It had a long needle and was filled with a yellowish liquid. He turned his head in the other direction, and saw Her standing with her back to him, talking into the recorder, apparently not realizing he was awake. Oz closed his eyes, listening.

"On the one hand, we almost couldn't have asked for a better subject, particularly in studying the mechanics of the change as well as the psychological impact on the werewolf's human form, and those around him. However, I do feel the addition of a second test subject would help us to gain a broader knowledge base. The question then becomes where do we find our second subject? The two most obvious choices would be Nina Ash and this subject's cousin. We know the full history of these two and they are easily located. However, Ash would be more of a risk as it is unlikely that the vampire would let her disappearance go unchallenged, and we definitely would not want him involved. The cousin is less of a risk, but we might be provided with more information if the next subject was not so genetically close to this one…"

Still not realizing Oz was awake, she had moved next to the exam table, and had rested her left hand on the table next to Oz's head, her right still holding the recorder as she talked into it. Suddenly, Oz turned his head, teeth aiming for her hand; if he hadn't still been under the effects of the sedative, he might have succeeded. As it was his movement was just slow enough that she was able to jerk her hand away just as his teeth touched skin.

"Shit!" She yelled jumping away from the table. She ran to the sink and started scrubbing her hand, then taking bleach out from under the sink she poured it directly over the skin. Waited a minute, and then started scrubbing again. When she turned back to Oz her eyes were filled with anger her voice cold and too calm. "You little bastard." She said and touched her bracelet activating the bands.

The shocks hit him over and over in waves as Oz screamed. They had barely stopped before she had released the restraints and shoved Oz off the table to the floor. She half dragged half shoved him back into the cage against the wall, hooking him to the chains. She slapped him across the face, exited the cell, slamming the door behind her and stomped up the stairs out of the lab.

Oz hung from the chains, shaking and shaken. His body tried to vomit, but there wasn't anything to come up, he began dry heaving until his throat burned and his eyes watered. He then lost consciousness. When he awoke, she still hadn't returned and he could tell he had only minutes until sunset. It was the first night of the moon. He had no doubt that he would not be able to control the wolf. When the change came, he was still alone.


	4. Chapter 4

When she finally returned the next morning it was to find Oz tangled in the chains and shackles, his arm hanging unnaturally. He appeared unconscious. The clothing he still had on was soiled and torn. She slowly entered the cage as he began to rouse. Supporting his body with her own, she gingerly untangled and removed the chains, and eased him to the floor. She leaned him against the wall and bracing her knee against his chest, she used both hands to pull and manipulate the shoulder back into place. Oz let out a hoarse, muffled scream as it popped into place. The pain had helped to bring him more fully into consciousness. She helped him up and supported him as she walked him to the shower. She took a pair of bandage scissors out of her lab coat pocket and cut the torn clothing off, she then left as she went to bring him new clothing.

After he had showered and dressed, she opened the cell door and motioned for him to come out and sit in the desk chair. He hesitated, fear in his eyes, remembering the last time he had left the cage, but he obeyed. Neither of them had spoken since she had returned. After he had sat down, she propped on the edge of the desk, uncharacteristically not looking him in the eye, and finally broke the silence. "Are you able to fully rotate your shoulder?"

"Yeah." Oz demonstrated.

"We will need to put ice on it every three or four hours for the next couple of days, and a sling should help. It may take a month or longer for it to heal, and some stiffness may remain, but there are some stretches that should help prevent that. Have you noticed any other injuries or pain?"

Oz ignored the question; instead he looked up at her and said, "I'm sorry."

"What?" She said, taken aback. Shock finally forcing her to meet his eye.

"I'm sorry. I almost did the one thing I had promised myself I would never do to anyone on purpose. I wouldn't want that for anyone."

She looked at Oz a moment before answering. "I knew as soon as it happened that there was no danger, the skin wasn't broken, but I nearly killed you out of fear of what could have happened. Those chains could have wrapped around your neck... I am a psychologist and animal behaviorist, among other things; it's part of why I have this job. I should have paid more attention to the signs. I should have realized something like this was coming. My...colleagues and I spoke before I came back today and it was decided that we will take a break from any testing for the next few days. For both our sakes. As I have told you before, there is only one person who would take my place, and fortunately for the both of us they don't think it's necessary. They would prefer to see me continue on this project, at least for now."

Over the next few days she left Oz alone while she worked mostly on the computer and with the data and materials she already had. She played soft music on the computer as she worked something she had never done before. When she returned them to a more normal routine, they were both less on edge.

***

About a week later, she wanted to start back down a path Oz had fervently hoped she wouldn't approach again.

"Oz, it's time we talked about your emotional attachments and how they were affected by you being a werewolf; how you handled things, what was going through your mind at different times of your life after the change, and how that may have compared to your feelings and reactions prior to then."

"No. The physical stuff…that's one thing, but the other… I've already given you enough of that. I've told you what the change feels like, I've told you about the loss of control. There's nothing else."

"I need to know about your relationships; about your time in Sunnydale."

"You have all that."

"No," she said, tapping the top of the computer monitor," what I have are facts. It doesn't tell me how the events affected you and what effect you being a werewolf had on your actions, and the actions of others. I have some of that in the files, but it's not enough. It is third-hand and it is cold. I need to hear about it from you, judge your reactions; know what you felt."

"No, that's one thing you're not getting, you may be able to force the physical, but not this."

"Oz, is it really worth the fight? We've been down this path before. You never win."

"This time you'll have to kill me, because no matter what you do I'm not discussing that part of my life with you."

"Why is that, Oz? Always the stoic, never showing what you really feel. What are you afraid of?"

Oz ignored the questions, "It's not just about me, it's about my friends. They are none of you business."

"Your friends? What about your friends?" She asked her questions in an emotionally neutral, clinical tone, belying their charged nature. " I've already proved I know more about them than you do. When was the last time you talked to any of them? Did you ever contact any of them after you left Sunnydale again? After Willow made her feelings plain? You didn't have to take the path you took, not even then. They still cared about you, but you couldn't allow yourself any connections. Was it too painful, knowing Willow was with someone else? Didn't you think they might want to hear from you now and again, to know you were alive? What about your family? You completely broke ties with everyone you knew from Sunnydale. Why? Both times when you left, were you protecting them or yourself? Were you punishing yourself, or just acting the martyr?"

Oz clinched his jaw and turned away, still refusing to answer, refusing to take the bait, half expecting a jolt from the bands, but apparently either she believed he was willing to die, and he was, or she realized that the tactic wouldn't work. Either way she let the matter drop, at least for now.

A few hours later, Oz lay still on his mattress, facing the cement wall. She was right. He had cut himself off. He had no one else to blame. He had allowed himself to be taken in by Veruca. Until she came along, he had been managing the wolf. Not controlling it, no. At least not internally, but he had been protecting himself and others from the damage it could do. And he had had help. But, from the first time he had lied about Veruca, even the earliest lie of omission, he took the first step away from his friends; the first step away from Willow. And, if he were honest with himself, he knew that part of the reason was that he had been attracted to Veruca, beyond the initial literal animal attraction, was that when he was with her he was able to dampen down the shame he felt in connection to the wolf. That shame was something he had never admitted to anyone, not even Willow. They had always been supportive of him, never blaming him for the wolf's actions. Even the time they thought he might have gotten out of the library, they had blamed Xander, not him. Even he had been angry with Xander. But more than that, he had been terrified, afraid that he had killed someone. No one was willing to blame Oz, not really. They blamed the wolf. But Oz…he knew that even if he didn't have control over what the wolf did, the wolf was him, and he would have still been responsible for the deaths. And that was the first time he had truly felt the shame.

When he realized that there was now a part of him that he couldn't control; a part of him that needed to be externally controlled, by bars, chains, tranquilizers… He still remembered the shame of having to lock himself away in front of his friends in front of his friends, in front of Willow, during that whole mess with Debbie and her boyfriend. He still remembered the shame of knowing his friends had to watch over him those nights, not just to protect him, but to protect others from him. The shame of knowing that there were many nights Willow had to arrange her schedule to ensure that she could be there for him during the nights of the full moon.

He felt less shame when he was with Veruca, at least at first. And, at first, he thought she would understand the shame, only to realize that she felt no need for shame. It horrified him learning what she did, but he still was drawn to her. And, somehow, the two things became mixed in his overly-hormoned brain, and he thought he could stop her. Change her. He used that as an excuse to be with her. He didn't fool anyone but himself, and he hurt the one person he loved more than anything, the one person who had loved and trusted him. Then, instead of staying to work it out, instead of trying to get help from his friends, he took everything on himself and bailed. Never sending them word of where he was, or what was happening. Then, in his arrogance, he just dropped back into their lives, into Willow's life, even more suddenly than he had left, like throwing a rock into a still pool. Nearly killing someone Willow loved, and getting himself captured and tortured by the Initiative, which led to his being here, and this time there would be no rescue. No one knew he was gone, his actions had seen to that, they wouldn't even know for sure if he was still alive after he had left Sunnydale the second time.

The first sob hit him, racking his body, surprising him. With a gasping breath he caught himself, he wasn't able to stop the crying, but he was able to keep it quiet, his back still turned to the cameras that he knew were there. And the next morning, if She had known anything, or had seen any evidence on his face, she never said.


	5. Chapter 5

At first Oz wasn't sure what he was hearing, even with his heightened hearing the sound was faint and muffled coming from the top of the stairs. Oz watched as the door opened and suddenly Oz was able to hear exactly what was causing the noise. It was an argument.

"You have no right to be here!" Her voice carried down the stairs as she came into view, her body half-turned blocking his view of whoever was on the receiving end. "You have every report the consortium has received, and if they don't feel the need to make a visit, I don't see how it is any of your business."

"Why Juliette, I'm your second." After all this time, Oz finally had a first name for her. "Don't you think I should get a feel for what you are doing here?"

"No, Wayne I don't. The Consortium hasn't given any indication that they plan to replace me, and we both know, if there comes a time when you take over, then my work here won't matter. You'll be doing your own. What you are doing here today is nothing more than intimidation tactics. A dog marking someone else's territory to claim it as his own!"

"An interesting choice of words; does it do that? Mark its territory?"

Oz watched as a man pushed past Her and started down the stairs, and by the smell Oz recognized him. It was the one she had told him about. The one who could take her place. And he was huge. He was tall and broad, but not an ounce of it appeared to be fat. Oz was used to people towering over him, but it had never bothered him before. It was bothering him now.

The man walked up to the bars and stared hard into Oz's eyes. "So, there it is. It's not very big."

Those eyes. They kept staring at Oz, a challenge, and the wolf knew it. Oz felt the wolf rising and forced himself to break eye contact. He didn't care if it made him look weak, he would be weaker if he let the wolf take over.

The man, still staring, stepped closer to the bars. "Come closer."

At that moment there wasn't much Oz wanted to do less, and he found himself unconsciously looking at her for support.

The man, 'Wayne', turned back to her. "Open the door."

"What?" She asked in disbelief. "No!"

"I just would like a closer look."

"Colonel Simmons I was put in charge of this project. There has been no reason for you to think that you have any right to be here, and I plan to let them know of your visit."

"Dr. Roberts, I don't know why you think they don't already know. All I want from you is to let me it to the cage for a few moments, to have a look, and I'll leave."

She pushed around him to the door. "Fine, if it will get you out of here." She opened the door and stepped aside.

The colonel stepped up to Oz, who continued to keep his eyes averted at least until grabbed his chin and forced his head around. Oz jerked his head away and stumbled back a step, but the colonel reached out with his other had and grabbed Oz's upper arm pulling him back, fingernails biting into his arm. The wolf-snarl Oz had been fighting to keep in finally broke free and yellow eyes met the colonel's brown ones.

"Ok, that's enough!" The doctor hurried into the cell.

"You still think there is humanity in that thing?" The colonel let go of Oz's arm. "I'm done here. For now."

He walked past her, out of the cell, but when he reached the bottom of the stairs he turned back. "Doctor, you are playing with fire. This one is no different from any of the other...things... we have dealt with. A demon is a demon not matter what form the body takes. You'd do well to remember that."

He was up the stairs and gone before she let her anger out, picking up an empty glass tube and flinging it across the room. It was too short and thick to properly shatter and fell cracked to the floor.

"That sanctimonious military asshole!" She took a breath and sat down in the desk chair, looking at Oz for the first time since the colonel had left. He had gotten the wolf under control and was watching her. She noticed his skin was already bruising where the colonel had grabbed his arm, and there was blood where the fingernails had dug in. She sighed and retrieved disinfectant.

A little while later Oz had been sitting on the mattress reading, when suddenly he didn't feel well. He felt nauseated, dizzy, and weak. He lay back on the mattress, fighting the urge to vomit. He felt like he was burning up. Something was wrong... He looked over at Her. She was working at the microscope and hadn't noticed anything wrong. His stomach cramped and his body curled in on itself, his chest tightening. With a strained voice he said three words to her he never thought he would say, "Please. Help me."


	6. Chapter 6

She had moved Oz out of the cell and onto the exam table, using the restraints to prevent him from falling to the floor in his delirium. She had hooked him up to the monitors from the surgery suite and had him on IV fluids. His vitals were erratic. Watching him, she picked up the recorder.

"According to all previous testing the subject has an extraordinary immune system which becomes strongest the closer it is to the full moon, waning with the moon, and is at its weakest for the nine days following the last day of the full moon. I have not found a reason for the sudden onset of illness. The symptoms lead me to believe that the illness may be viral in nature; however I have not been able to diagnose what the virus might be, or how the subject might have become infected particularly with the level of precautions that have been taken to ensure such a thing did not occur.

"I hope to avoid bringing in outside personnel for help; however I have come too far in my research to lose this subject without a fight. This is not a case of being able to start over at the beginning; even as difficult as that would normally be. This subject is truly unique, research indicates that he is unique in his admittedly control of his condition, and in his experiences. He is also unique in the amount of background information we have access to, particularly that since he first acquired the condition of lycanthropy. Although there are other possible lychonthropic research subjects, as I have pointed out to him, we would not be able to gain as much from them as we can from this subject. I do hope at some point in the future possibly adding another subject to the program. I am particularly intrigued by the idea of the cousin, but that aspect of the project can only be explored fully if this subject lives."

She sat the recorder down and walked over to the exam table. Oz's normally pale skin had reddened and he was covered in sweat. She couldn't understand what had happened and her initial tests hadn't really shown anything definitive. The symptoms were indicative of something foreign to the body, but she had been careful. She had even ensured that Wayne… Wayne. How could she have missed the timing?

She took a look at Oz's forearm where the colonel's fingernails had broken the skin. It wasn't a virus she was looking at, it was poison. The thought hadn't crossed her mind. Everything was so controlled it shouldn't have even been a possibility. She just hadn't taken into account the possibility of sabotage from within; she had underestimated the depths of her rival's jealousy and instability. She re-ran the blood and urine tests, looking at the results with new eyes. She was finally able to isolate what had caused Oz's sudden illness. It was silver. Silver was poisoning his blood.

She had never seriously considered that silver would be harmful to a werewolf. After all, it was known that a regular bullet would kill a werewolf just as dead as it would a human, even if it sometimes took more of them, or else perfect aim at a major organ. Myths had always grown up around anything that isn't understood, and she had assumed that the effect of silver on werewolves was one of them. But now it appeared that she had assumed wrong. Now that she knew what she was looking at she could fight it.

She ran up the stairs through the door into the house that above that served as camouflage for what lay beneath. Picking up her cell phone, she made a call. "It's me. I know what's happened, and there are a few things I need..."

In less time than it took most pizza deliveries, she had what she needed. Quickly she took the IV bags downstairs. In the short time she had been away Oz had become weaker. The IV bags contained chelators that would hopefully bind the poison in the bloodstream which would cause it to be eliminated in the urine. Once she had them hooked up it was mostly a matter of waiting. Once she was certain everything was flowing correctly and Oz appeared stable she went back upstairs to make another call.

***

Oz awoke slowly, momentarily disoriented by waking up on the exam table instead of the cell floor. His body felt sore and stiff. Raising his head slightly he was able to locate Her. She appeared to be resting at the desk, but must have seen the small movement because she looked at him and said, "I wasn't sure that you would make it."

Oz spoke, his throat raw and his voice raspy, "What happened?"

"My esteemed colleague, or I should say my now former colleague, decided that he had waited long enough and if he couldn't have the job, then there would be no job to be had. He poisoned you. With silver."

"Silver?" Oz lay his aching head back down. "I thought that was a myth."

"Yeah, well that makes two of us."

"I've touched silver. I've never had a problem."

She got up from the desk and walked over into Oz's line of sight. "The silver acted as a poison, not an allergen. Touch wasn't enough. He got it through the skin and into you bloodstream."

"He... The scratches."

"The scratches." She came over to the table and removed the restraints. "My backers have invested quite a bit of time and money in you and were not happy, to say the least, that their expensive property was almost destroyed."

"I'm touched." Oz said dryly.

Ignoring the comment she continued, almost to herself. "I told them he was less stable than they thought, more dangerous, but all they could see was his qualifications. Anyway," She focused back on Oz "it looks like you're going to recover, and I'll be interested to see how your body responds during the moon. If the moon's phase affects the recovery time by aiding in the healing process for a poisoning the same as it does other damage, or if the silver has detrimentally affected the accelerated healing during the full moon. It will be useful data either way. Oz slightly shook his head, not really surprised by her callousness, but noting it all the same.

She rearranged the IV poles to make them easier to roll with one hand, and used her other as support behind Oz's shoulders. "Let's see if we can get you moved to the mattress. Now that the risk is over, you'll be more comfortable."

***

The full moon, and the change Oz was no longer able to prevent, did actually seem to help in his physical recovery, but the depression that had been held off had begun to come back. He was tired. Tired of pain, tired of being used, tired of not knowing the future - of not having a future.

He didn't know if he had ever really believed he would get out alive. She had once told him that when her work was complete (whenever and whatever that meant) she would let him go. He wanted to believe it, but he didn't, not really. And now after this, he realized how easy it would be for him to die here, whether she intended for him to or not. Even now he didn't want to die. Not here, not like this. She told him the colonel had been removed, but that didn't' mean that he would let it drop, not after showing the lengths he would go to get revenge, or to lay claim on what he thought should be his. It also didn't mean that her people wouldn't bring someone else in eventually, and the devil he knew was bad enough. Oz had long ago given up any hope at escape. He had learned that lesson well, but now that he had seen what death here in this place would be like, he didn't know how he could continue with the knowledge that no matter how long or short his life was it would most likely end here. And the journey to its end would unlikely be enjoyable.

Those two warring ideas, the desire to live and the inability to continue a pointless pain-filled life at someone else's discretion, began to eat away at Oz. He knew even if he couldn't escape and even if he didn't have the means to end his own life there were ways he could stack the odds in his favor, causing her to accidently do it herself. Make her angry enough to lose control or a sudden movement while she was using a scalpel. And he had watched her with the equipment enough to know what some of the dangers were. Perhaps one of the simplest ways would be if he could get a chance to turn on the anesthesia, without her becoming aware before the gas could render them both unconscious and causing them to die. But that was a long shot and besides, Oz knew he wasn't ready to cause her death, no more than he was truly ready to die, but he wasn't sure how much longer he would feel that way, and he knew that this plan had an advantage. She might still believe he could be a danger to her and would be prepared for an attack, just as she might be prepared for him to become despondent again and perhaps a danger to himself. But he didn't think she would be prepared for Oz to calculate an unemotional mostly passive plan to kill them both. Now all he had to do was convince himself that it was the only way.

A few nights after Oz had begun formulating scenarios, all ending in his death, She left for the night leaving him to fall asleep in the semi-darkness of the lab.

"Oz. Oz, wake up."

Oz slowly opened his eyes. The voice he heard, or thought he heard, was not the voice he would have expected. There was only one female voice he had heard during all these months, and this wasn't it. This voice was one he had only heard a handful of times. It was also a voice he knew he couldn't be hearing. It was impossible. He turned over onto his back, half sitting up. What he saw sitting at the foot of the mattress in the semi-darkness matched the voice in his head, making it all the more impossible.

"Tara, is that you? She told me you were dead; are you really here?"

"I am."

"Here or dead?"

Tara smiled slightly. "Both."

"Oh." Oz sat up fully and asked, "Am I dreaming?"

"Yes," Tara answered still smiling, "but at the same time you're not."

"I guess that makes as much sense as anything in my life..."

"It is the only way I could be here without her knowing." Tara looked toward the wall mounted cameras. "Even though she couldn't see me on camera, it's safer if she doesn't see you talking to nothing." Tara turned her attention back to him. "Oz, they'll be coming for you: Willow and Buffy, and others. Don't give up yet."

"Why does it matter?" Oz asked, not even bothering to question what she, a ghost, might know, much less how the conversation could even be happening. "Willow is the only thing I have ever loved and I lost her. I lost her as soon as I first left Sunnydale, and I had left her so that I could be with her. How stupid is that? Then she found you, and I don't know everything...but I know she chose you. I know she loved you. I know what happened to her after you died, the good doctor told me that. That tells me how much Willow loved you, because that is how much I love her. And then...I hear there was another…another girl. Not to be crass, but that makes your relationship, like not a fluke. So I guess the fluke was me..." Oz looked away.

"No. You're Oz." Tara smiled. "Oz, we both love her with all that we are, but now there is only you. And you need her, and she will need you. She has my heart, but she has your soul. You brought out the sweetness in her and I brought out the strength. Now it's time to let her use that strength, and let her be strong for you. You think you have to control the wolf alone. But you don't. And you can't. It's time to stop trying."

Oz looked down at his hands in lap, picking at a hangnail. "It's worse now. At first She let me try to control it. She had given me back the charms, and she got me the other things I needed, and she left me alone. She'd watch and later ask questions, but she left me alone. But then she took those things away and left me with just the meditation. Then she wouldn't let me concentrate and started losing complete control again during the nights of the full moon. Then she started to...encourage... the wolf to come out. Now, instead of just the nights, if something negative enough happens the can wolf come out during those three days. And those days, no matter what happens, it is a struggle to keep it in, and sometimes I can't. And the nights...I have lost complete control, just like in the beginning."

"You can't control it Oz. Not alone. That's what you have been doing wrong, even in the beginning."

"What do you know about the beginning?" The anger Oz had held in for so long came to the surface. The anger toward the wolf, toward Her, toward Willow, toward himself, and toward the one who was impossibly sitting in front of him. "You didn't know me! Hell, you still don't know me! We met what? Three times? And the third time I tried to kill you! You weren't there! What am I saying? You're not even here now."

"I am here. I'm not alive, but I am here, and I do know you Oz. I know you through Willow, through your connection to her. And...I just know. Like I know they will come for you. But, before they do, you have to understand, or it's not going to matter. You'll still be trapped. You can't let yourself be alone in this."

"Really don't think I have a choice." Oz said, looking around at the walls and the bars.

"Not this," Tara said, indicating the same things, "what's to come and the wolf in you. You can't do it alone. Even Buffy figured it out; even she can't do it all alone."

"So," Oz said, reading between the lines "what She said is true? About Buffy and the other slayers? That the girls who could be slayers became slayers when Buffy shared her power?"

"It's more than that. The Slayer's weapon is what allowed it to be possible, and it was Buffy's decision. But, in the end Willow was the one who made the decision reality and put the possible into form. Let Willow help you now. Let Willow be your strength, not just for you, but because she will need you too."

"I don't even know what I am anymore."

"That's what they will help you to learn. No matter what else you have or may become, you are Oz. Only there is more to you now. And yes, some of it is dark, but Willow and the others can bring you out of the darkness, but you have to let them. Please Oz, in the days to come, please remember what I have told you."

When Oz awoke the next morning, he wasn't sure he could believe that he hadn't only been dreaming, at least until he noticed something small and green at the foot of the mattress where the vision of Tara had sat in his dream. It was a small narrow willow leaf. Turning his body to shield it from the cameras, he palmed the leaf then slid it underneath the mattress.


	7. Chapter 7

"Oz needs you."

The familiar voice broke through Willow's dream, and she became wide awake. At least she thought she did, until she realized that she couldn't have possibly heard the voice she thought she did. "Tara?"

Tara, or at least something that looked like Tara, was sitting on the end of Willow's bed smiling at her. "Yes baby, it's me."

Willow sat up and started sliding back until she hit the headboard. "How do I know it's you?" An edge of panic was in her voice. "Maybe you're the first, and you've come back?"

"If I was the first, why would I come to tell you Oz needs help?" Tara asked, still smiling.

"I don't know." Willow thought for a moment then pointed at Tara. "You're trying to divert my attention!"

Tara's smile grew bigger, "Divert it from what?"

"From…from whatever evil thing you're doing!" Willow said, stabbing the pointing finger in Tara's direction.

Tara's smile became more of a grin and she said, "Don't be stupid."

Willow froze at the familiar recrimination, tears in her eyes. "Tara! It is you! How is it you?! How are you here!?" Willow clambered over the bedcovers trying to reach Tara, but reaching out, her hand went through, unable to touch.

Tara's smile turned sad and she held her hand toward Willow's cheek. "I'm here to help. I had to come. They wanted me to come. They needed someone you would believe and would trust."

"They? Who are they? Help with what?" Willow searched Tara's face for the answers.

"The Powers." Tara, seeing Willow's confusion elaborated, "The Powers that Be…" She trailed off. "Talk to Angel. They need you to help Oz. There will be a time when you both will be needed. To help make things right, and Oz is in danger."

"Make what right? Tara? What are you talking about?"

"I don't have much time, they've given me so little, but they have shown me there will be a time when all of you, all the "Scoobies", will be needed to work together again, Oz included. But more importantly, if what needs to happen is to happen, a lot will depend on you and Oz. You and Oz will need to support each other; protect each other. I wish more than anything I have ever wished, that I could be there for you. But I can't. So, I have to believe in Them, the Powers I mean, and entrust you to Oz. And, in the short term, Oz needs you more than you need him. If something doesn't change, there won't be enough of Oz's spirit left to heal."

"What's happened? Where is he?"

"He's being held by a woman who was with the Initiative…"

After Tara told Oz's story and his location she faded and was gone, Willow sat on her bed for a few minutes absorbing this latest loss then she remembered why Tara had come to her in the first place. Jumping off the bed she went in search of her cell phone.

Several hours after Willow's call to Buffy, the rescue party was forming. Using the email address Sam, Riley's wife, had once given Willow, they were able to get in touch with Riley. Tara's spirit had been able to give Willow a general area location of where Oz was being held, but not a specific place. She had been able to narrow it down for them to an area of Maryland, which raised the question again as to a possible government connection given the fairly close proximity to D.C. Once they had contacted Riley, they were on their way to an extended stay hotel in Fredrick, Maryland. In addition to Buffy, Willow, Giles, and Xander were Riley, Sam (Riley's wife), and a select number of Riley's personnel.

Dawn had stayed behind with Andrew at headquarters. Buffy wondered what it would be like to work with Riley ,and Sam, again, but considering the opposition, Buffy had figured having the former Initiative golden boy might prove handy, and it didn't hurt that Sam was a doctor, just in case. Besides with a doctor, a witch, a soldier, a slayer, a watcher, and a Xander they couldn't lose. Right?

As they were settling in the hotel and setting up one of the rooms as headquarters, Riley suddenly turned away from the equipment he was arranging on the room's desk, and looking hard at Buffy said, "Let me get this straight. Willow has a dream where her dead girlfriend tells her that her ex-boyfriend, who as I recall, nearly ripped her heart out when he left her without a word, is being held prisoner by a scientist who used to work with the Initiative. And, based on that, you want me and my people to attempt a rescue?"

"Uhhuh. And it was a visitation, not a dream. And if you didn't believe it, then why did you agree to come?"

"Oh, I didn't say I didn't believe it, I just wanted to hear it out loud." Riley's look softened into a smile.

"So were you able to get any idea of what we might be facing?" Buffy asked.

"I wasn't able to do much without a name, but I have a couple of ideas of who she might be, but no real information. As far as I was able to find out, whatever it is she is doing is without official government knowledge."

"Which means nothing."

"Which means nothing." Riley agreed. "But if it is the government, and it is unofficial, then it gives us deniability and makes it hard for them to retaliate afterward. And if it isn't governmental..." He trailed off.

"Even though Tara's spirit wasn't able to give Willow an exact location, she did give us an idea of what this doctor has been up to, but not why, and not a lot of detail. Which may be just as well considering the impression she gave of what has been happening to Oz. But I don't like the idea that we will be going in blind." Buffy said.

"If we can get the position pin-pointed exactly, then Sam can take a couple of our guys on recon."

"It will have to be someone you trust not to act alone. I'm not risking Oz's life. I don't want him to have gone through what he has, just so that he can get killed because some soldier boy gets all macho and loses sight that this is a rescue mission and not an assault."

"On behalf of all soldier boys - Hey!"

"You know what I mean." Buffy crossed her arms, slightly shaking her head.

"I do, and trust me our guys are soldiers, not Rambo wannabes, and Sam will be in charge. No one will make a move until you're ready..."

Buffy sighed, "I just hope we're not too late."

Using the information Tara's spirit had provided, and a locator spell from Willow, it turned out to be fairly simple to find the house where Oz was being kept. Willow's knack for guilt didn't let it pass unnoted that if only they had known sooner they could have saved Oz months of pain.

However, following Tara's advice, as soon as Willow had gotten off the phone with Buffy, she had called Angel, who although he was still bitter at Giles' lack of help when Fred had been dying, explained as much as he could about The Powers that Be. And, after finding out how vague, unspecific, and all-around useless they could be, Willow felt lucky that they had actually been given any useful information at all. Even if it hadn't been as timely as she would have wished. If it hadn't been for the Power's intervention, they might never have known that Oz was in danger in the first place.

When they found the house, it was located outside of Walkersville. The house was in a vaguely rural area in a small development. The house, though small, had its own circular gravel drive in front, rose bushes in the yard, and a white picket fence. Sam sat in a phone company van across the road and down from the house thinking that she had never trusted white picket fences. She felt they were overrated as a symbol of domestic bliss, and usually were a front for sinister things behind closed doors. This time she knew she was right. Although she had never met Oz, she knew and liked Willow and her friends, and it angered her that someone who might be from her own government and who had worked with her husband, even if they had never met, was responsible for causing them pain.

She and two of their personnel had been outside the house now for a couple of hours, but so far nothing was moving outside the house and of more concern, her equipment was only picking up one life reading inside. Which meant either their Intel was wrong and Oz wasn't there, or he was in an area shielded from their equipment. The third option didn't bear thinking about. Suddenly her radio came to life with Riley's voice.

"Sam, report"

"I'm here. Still no change. Do you want us try a look inside?"

"If you think your cover will hold closer scrutiny, see if you can use it to get in."

"Gotcha and out."

Sam picked up a clipboard and pulled the "phone company" hat down further on her head. Then, slipping a small device used to read and record heat signatures into her pocket, she jumped out of the van and headed toward the house.

The house didn't look any less cute from the porch. All of the curtains on the front of the house, as well as the one side she could see, were drawn. She had just raised her hand to knock when the door opened and a small blonde woman appeared. Sam, who having met Buffy, knew that that didn't mean the woman wasn't dangerous, didn't relax her guard.

"May I help you?" The woman asked.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm with the phone company and we have had customers in this area complaining there has been intermittent disruption of their service. Have you noticed any problems?"

The woman never opened the door more than a crack and answered, "I don't have a landline phone."

"Oh," Sam said smiling, "well that explains why we couldn't find a name at this residence in our files. Ms. ..."

"I'm sorry, may I see your I.D.?"

"Of course." Sam pulled out of the rapidly obtained credentials, hoping they would pass and handed them over.

The woman looked at the I.D. closely before handing it back. "As I've said, I don't have a phone, so therefore I do not have a problem."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for your time."

Sam stepped off the porch as the door closed behind her, then with a litany of "stupid, stupid, stupid" under her breath, as she berated herself for her performance, she made her way back to her way back to the van.

She picked up her radio, "Riley?"

"I'm here."

"I think I'd better pull out. She seems suspicious and I don't want to flush her before we're ready."

"Copy. Were you able to see anything?"

"Negative, but I am looking at my hand-held and I see a faint reading for a second signature. I think he's there"

"Ok, we'll see you in a few. Out."

Riley looked up at the others from the chair where he was seated at the desk in the hotel room where they had made their headquarters. Buffy looked back at him, hands on hips. "Suspicious? Of course she's suspicious. Phone company? Please!"

"It was short notice!" Riley protested. "Besides, it's a classic."

Buffy rolled her eyes and turned to Willow. "Will, I think we need to move now. If we wait there's a chance they'll move, and now that she suspects someone's on to her, there's also the chance that she may kill Oz. Is there anything else that Tara told you that might give us any idea of what we are walking into security-wise?"

"No, I've told you everything. She really didn't have anything to tell me about the layout, just mostly what that bitch has been doing to Oz."

"Then," Buffy said looking around the room at the others, "I guess we'll find out when we get there."


	8. Chapter 8

The neighborhood the house was in didn't give them a lot of options regarding a sneak attack. The team waited out of sight at a distance until the cover of late night/early morning. Without knowing her security capabilities they could only hope that their movements would go unnoticed until it was too late. What they couldn't know was that inside the house warnings were already going off, and their target was going to ground - literally underground.

At the first alarm, she had practically flown down the stairs to the lab; hurriedly engaging the door seal, then ran over to the computer and began transferring her latest data to her superiors. She then began powering down the equipment to lower the risk of any signals being picked up during the invaders' search of the house. Although, once the room's emergency seal was activated very little would penetrate, she wasn't taking any chances as far as the Slayer was concerned. The whole time Oz had been watching, becoming alarmed by her change in behavior. She lowered the lights then stood in front of Oz's cage and said, "Don't move and stay quiet."

"What...?"

"I said quiet!" She snapped, steel in her voice, her eyes looking up to the ceiling as though to see what was going on above.

Meanwhile, Buffy and Riley's team burst into the house upstairs. Searching room by room they found it empty with no trace of the woman they had been watching. The house was one level with no sign of a basement. Riley's soldiers' equipment picked up nothing, and despite Willow trying a couple of revealing spells, they could find no evidence of a lab or where their target had disappeared to.

"Willow, over here." Buffy had been running her hand along one of the living room walls when her fingers noticed something her eyes couldn't see. Something that felt like a crack, or line, between two pieces of the paneling.

Willow left off where she had been looking through the meager items on the entertainment center, which was definitely lacking in entertainment. No CDs, DVDs, or videos. Nothing except an older model television, and a DVD/VCR combo player. She walked over to where Buffy was examining the wall. "What did you find?"

"See these two panels? There's a small crack between them and," she put her cheek to the wall, "I feel air."

Xander stepped over to where they were and said, "This is an inner wall there shouldn't be air coming through like that. There's got to be something behind it."

"Look." Buffy said, indicating a tiny hole no bigger than a small nail head. She leaned in, looking closer. "I think I see something reflecting, like glass or something."

Riley, having come back in from examining the sparse bedroom spoke up. "It might be an optical mechanism that's programmed to open the wall when it's triggered."

Buffy looked up at him, "What's the trigger?"

"Well, that's the question. But now that we know that it's here, we might be able to find something to wedge in the crack and open it the old-fashioned way, using leverage. Hang on, I'll go back to the van and get a crowbar."

Before trying the crowbar, Willow attempted a spell to open it, but whatever had been interfering with her reveal spell was still in effect. It took awhile, but finally after both pushing against the door and using the crowbar as a wedge, they were able to get the door to slide open just enough to get their hands in the crack then using the strength of Buffy, Riley, Xander, and one of Riley's men they were finally able to slide it open to the right. Once opened it revealed a small area the size of a tiny closet and another door directly across from them. This one was metal, set into a metal frame. There was both a numbered keypad and a slot for a key card. There would be no brute force opening of this door.

Riley went out and retrieved a small notebook computer and handed it to Willow, along with a keycard that hooked into the USB port. "The program on there is the best we have at breaking entry codes, and no matter who she is working for, I am willing to bet that their system won't be able to keep us out."

With a breath, Willow took the computer, put the card in the slot and started to work.

Downstairs, Dr. Roberts watched their movements on her computer using the cameras that were concealed within the house itself. She berated herself and her employers for not using a more sophisticated lock like those on the bands Oz wore, but they had felt the likelihood of being discovered, coupled with the need for quick access by her superiors should anything happen to her, made the need for such a lock unnecessary. Not to mention that they had hired a shaman to lay a disruption spell to prevent any use of magic in the house outside the lab, well at least that part was working... What was the saying? "For want of a nail..." She knew now that it was only a matter of time before they broke through the second door and she had effectively trapped herself. She was no martyr to her cause and didn't plan on going out in a rain of gunfire, nor did she have plans to kill Oz. Both would be pointless.

The fact that Buffy had teamed up with Finn ironically gave her a better chance than if it were the slayer and her crew alone. With Finn involved she had little doubt in that she would be turned over to the military, which meant as soon as her backers got wind of it, she would be released. Her employers had copies of all of her data and many of her samples, so once she was out that part of her work could continue at least. And, the fact that as long as Oz was alive she would have the eventual option of someday picking up where she left off was reason enough not to see him dead. She glanced over at Oz who was looking toward the top of the stairs. She knew with his hearing that he must be able to hear something of the progress they had made on the doors, but as yet was unaware of what that meant.

***

"I think I've got it!" Willow had no more said the words when the indicator light on the door turned green and they all heard the lock disengage.

"Willow, wait!" Riley put out a hand to try and stop Willow, but she had already opened the door. From her vantage point her line of sight fell directly on the cage below.

"Oz!" Willow barely had time to register what she was seeing, when she felt whatever had been blocking her magic dissipate and that was all it took. Ignoring all else, Willow gathered the now present magic around herself, and still standing at the top of the stairs reached an arm toward the cage, clinched her fist, twisted her wrist, and pulled her arm back. With a strong gust of wind the entire cage door flew off coming toward her until she slung her arm to the right, where it crashed heavily against the wall and the equipment along it. The wind continued though, and it lifted Willow up and carried her down the stairs and across the room gently lowering her to stand in front of Oz.

He looked at her. "Hey."

She looked back. 'Hey, yourself."

He looked at her for a moment more. Then hesitantly he wrapped his arms around her, burying his head against her neck as she held him.

As soon as Willow had touched the floor, the rest of the team ran down the stairs, except for Buffy who, eschewing the stairs all together, launched herself over the side of the stairs' railing and landed directly in front of the doctor.

"Hi, I'm Buffy. I don't think we've met." Buffy drew back her fist and landed a punch on the doctor's jaw, knocking her to the floor. "Now we have."

Just coming off the stairs, Riley came over in time to pick the doctor up off the floor. "Doctor Roberts."

"Riley Finn."

"So, you do know her?" Buffy asked.

"Not really, but we've met and now it looks like we get the chance to know each other a little better. Doctor, I am authorized to take you into military custody. I suggest you come quietly."

"Of course." She said, fully aware of her course of action.

Riley took out a pair of handcuffs and taking her arm started to put them on. Oz, finally able to focus on what was going on around him, yelled, "Wait!" Then, finding all eyes suddenly turned toward him, lost his voice.

Willow, guessing some of what Oz was feeling, put her hand on his arm and said quietly, "It's alright. What is it?"

Oz turned back to Willow, and found if he focused on her and pretended there was no one else there, he was able to find his voice. "These," he held his arms out, "she is the only one who can take them off."

Willow, really noticing the bands for the first time, had to bite back on her anger to stop herself from doing something she would later regret. She debated for a moment on whether or not magic would be able to remove them, but decided the risk wasn't worth it. She turned toward the others, "Riley..."

Riley looked down at the doctor. "You heard her."

"And," Buffy said, stepping closer "If you try anything you'll find out what a slayer can really do."

Ignoring Buffy, the doctor walked over to Oz, and taking his arm began removing the bands, staring him in the face the entire time. Oz, for his part, was unable to look at her at all, and found himself pressed against Willow's side before he realized what he had done. When she was finished, she turned back to Riley and Buffy and handed them the four bands. Riley took her arm, and turning her around, put the handcuffs on her.

Sam had, along with Giles and the soldiers, been taking stock of the lab. And, even with the damage done by the door Willow had flung across the room, she was able to get a good idea of what had been going on, and how difficult the road was that Oz was going to have to take before he would truly be free.

She turned to Giles and said, "There is a lot of useful information here. Information that could be used to help Oz. It could help others. What do we do?"

Giles looked over to where Oz was still standing with Willow. "I think we'll leave that up to him. For now we should gather what we can, and then later, when he's ready, we'll ask him."

Willow drew Oz over to the foot of the stairs, away from the hated cage and away from the pressing crowd of the others and quietly asked him, "Why don't you let Xander take you back to the hotel where we're staying while we finish up here?"

"You're not coming?"

"I'll be there as soon as I can. I just want to make sure nothing gets overlooked and that nothing is left behind that whoever she's with can recover. And, to make sure that they," indicating Riley's men, "don't take anything. There isn't really anyone here who can handle the computer stuff that I trust enough to do it. Unless you think I should leave it to Giles and Buffy." She said with a slight grin.

"Not unless they have really changed a lot in the last few years, or Giles has been really hiding his secret computer whiz identity." Oz said with his own slight smile.

"I promise I will be there as soon as we get everything we can. It's not that I don't trust Riley and Sam, but they might miss something."

"Sam?"

Willow turned pointing Sam out. "Riley's wife."

"Hunh, She didn't tell me that."

"She didn't tell...what does she know?" Willow asked.

"Well, I'm not sure since I didn't have a way to check, but I think pretty much everything. She's...disturbing...that way."

"So," Willow said, turning back to the subject, "you don't mind if I..." She nodded her head back toward the others.

"No, you're right. There's...things...here that shouldn't be...that just..." Oz, trailed off lost in thought, and then started again. "I'll be fine with Xander. Just...come on as soon as you can. Please."

Willow put her palm to Oz's cheek. "I will, I promise."

Taking Oz's hand and leading him back to where Xander was talking with Giles and Sam. "So, Xand, your taxi service available?"

"Always, and as always, I am extra careful with the extra special VIP passengers."

"See that you are." Willow gave him a definite Willow smile, and then turned back to Oz, her tone more serious, "It'll be ok."

Xander looked at Oz, his tone matching Willow's. "Are you ready?"

Oz briefly looked around at the place that had been his prison for so long now and answered. "More than."

As they walked back to the staircase they had to walk past the doctor. "Oz." She said.

Two years of conditioning made him stop and look back at her. She looked at him, then around at the people who were his friends, then back at him again. "Don't screw it up this time."

Oz gave a slight nod and turned away.

He put his hand on the railing at the foot of the stairs and looked up. As much as he wanted out, wanted this place and everything it held behind him, he couldn't shake the feeling that something would happen to him if he climbed those steps. That she hadn't told him everything, that there was something up there that would stop him. He felt a slight touch on his elbow and looked down to see Xander's hand lightly resting on his arm. Not pressing, just letting him know that he was there, and maybe it really was going be ok. He took a breath and didn't let it out until he was at the top and through the double doors. It was a strange feeling, not just being out of the lab, but to see the camouflage of

normalcy that had been hiding everything below. Xander paused with him as he looked around, fingers still brushing Oz's arm, letting him take his time. With a nod Oz let him know he was ready to continue.

Xander led him to the outside door and Oz felt a sudden tightening of his chest, but didn't stop. In just seconds they were out. In the time since the team had entered the sun had rose, and even at its weakest, the light was still too much for eyes that hadn't seen their rays in so long. Oz had to close his eyes and shield them with his hand. Never taking his hand from Oz's arm, Xander stepped slightly back over the threshold to where a couple of Riley's men were keeping watch. Seeing sunglasses hanging off one of the soldier's shirt pocket, Xander asked,"Can he have those?"

The soldier handed them over and Xander gave them to Oz. The glasses helped, but Oz still squinted against the light. Xander quashed down the darkly humorous thought of the half-blind leading the half-blinded and helped Oz into one of the vans.

The ride to the hotel was surreal. Oz still didn't feel like any of this could be real, and Xander was uncharacteristically quiet, not knowing what to say and ashamed for it. By the time they reached the hotel, Oz could add carsick to the list of weird feelings he was experiencing.

Xander lead Oz up to the room that they had already set aside for him, and broke the not quite uncomfortable silence. "We got you some clothes, I hope they fit, we haven't seen you in a while, obviously; so it was guess work. They're in the drawer over there." He pointed at a small white bureau.

"The bathroom's over there." He said, pointing again. "Do you want me to stay, or..."

Oz spoke for the first time since leaving the lab. "No, if it's ok, can I be alone, just for a little while?"

"Sure, man." Xander replied. He noted the slight uncertainty and almost placating tone to Oz's voice and had to careful school his reaction, not wanting Oz to feel any of the anger he was holding toward that bitch that had done this to his friend and think it was directed at him. Xander was almost through the door when Oz spoke again.

"Hey, Xander. Thanks."

Xander nodded and closed the door.

After Xander was gone, Oz walked over to the bed and sat down. He was alone. For the first time in more than two years, he had the choice to be alone and, if he wanted, he had the choice to open the door and call Xander back and not be alone. He sat for a moment more than walked over to the bureau and found the promised clothing. He chose a tee shirt and jeans. (He chose!) He went into the bathroom and shut the door. (He shut the door!) He turned the shower on and that's when it truly hit him. He was free.

He felt his legs weaken and he slid down the wall to the floor of the shower and sat there, letting the hot water run over him. He stayed that way for as long as he felt he would be able to without someone becoming worried and coming in to check on him. Getting dressed he went back into main room where he sat back down on the bed. He was suddenly very tired, and lying back on the bed he went to sleep.

Sometime later, he awoke with a jerk. Momentarily disoriented, and the unaccustomed height of the bed making him feel suspended and up too high, it took him a moment to figure out what had woken him. It was a slight knock at the door, followed by Willow's voice. "Oz, it's me. Can I come in?"

Oz now fully awake, quickly walked over and opened the door. "Willow." Suddenly Oz felt very awkward. "Come in."

Willow walked through the opened door already talking. "We've gotten everything we could, but it looks like she has already pretty much sent everything she had to whomever she's working for. We are working on tracing it back and seeing if we can figure out who that is."

She walked over to the bed and sat down, Oz coming over to sit beside her. "Oz, I am so sorry that we didn't know. That we couldn't have done anything sooner."

"Willow," Oz said, taking her hand, "there was nothing you could have done. No way that you could have known. I am so grateful that you came. But…can we not talk about it yet? Later, I promise, but not yet. Tell me what I've missed. She...she told me a lot, and," he said suddenly remembering, "You have to warn Buffy, She seems to have found out a lot from one of the other Slayers. That's sounds weird. Other Slayers... I don't know anything other than that, I mean she didn't say anything that told me for sure one of the slayers, but I just have a feeling."

"We will. Warn Buffy, I mean, but right now, don't worry, just let me tell you a story."

Several hours later Willow and Oz were reclined on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, side by side, bumping their feet against each other. And although the provided clothing had included shoes, Oz was still bare-foot. Willow having woven the tale starting from the last time she and Oz had seen each other had just finished telling Oz about her visit from Tara.

"I still miss her everyday. I know I always will." Willow said.

"I wish I could have gotten to know her, if things had been different..." Oz looked at Willow before continuing. "And not just because she's saved me twice. First by telling the guys the Initiative had me, and now this time... If she hadn't came to me, hadn't led you to me...I don't know what I would have done. I think I was ready to give up."

"When she came to me," Willow said, "I didn't believe it at first, that it was really her, I was afraid it was the First coming back, but then I realized it really was Tara." Willow's look became focused far away a slight hint of tears in her eyes. "She told me you needed me. When I lost Tara, I can't even begin to explain what happened, what I became. It changed everything. I became a murderer. Worse than a murderer. I tried to end the world." She repeated it quietly, "I tried to end the world. I couldn't control myself, I let the power take over. Even before Tara died it was a problem." She looked back at Oz. "I know you always worried about me too. Me with the magic. And you were right. You were so right. You both were."

Oz took her hand as she continued. "Then after...after I was...stopped...I was afraid of it, of the power, of how much of it I had and what I could do with it, until Buffy really needed me, needed my help to activate the Potentials." Willow looked again at Oz, her eyes shining, but with wonder not tears. "Oz, it was the most amazing thing. It was right somehow, and I realized that that was what I had been missing. That's what was wrong before. Most of the magic I used before was for was selfish use, and I kept taking and taking. I thought I understood; I thought as long as I can control it, it was ok to use it however I wanted, for whatever I wanted. And even the times I thought I wasn't being selfish, when I thought I was helping people, there was still a part of me that was still being selfish. I was all 'this makes me special, this makes me powerful, people will notice me now' and the more I got, the more I wanted. And I pushed and pushed. And I grabbed and grabbed.

"And it was wrong. So wrong. Giles had tried to warn me, Tara tried to warn me, and you tried to warn me. And when I lost Tara... It was awful. I was awful. But, what I did with the scythe, it was so different. I approached it differently, with respect and I was so afraid. I never once thought about what I would get out of it, or how powerful I was to be able to do this. And the power that the scythe was connected to was so old... I've finally learned a lot. It's not just about spells, and it's not about power. I really get that now."

"I'm sorry that I wasn't there." Oz said. "And I am so sorry about Tara, really, and I am glad that you had her. When Tara came to me, she told me that I needed to stop trying to solve things by myself. I used to think that it was the wolf that had kept us apart, that the wolf had messed everything up. That it was entirely to blame for everything that happened with Veruca, and that the only way things would get better was if I found a way to control the wolf - to control myself, and I thought that finding a way to control the wolf was the only reason I left Sunnydale the first time. And then when I left the second time, I even blamed the wolf as the reason that you and Tara were together. That was so stupid. I know now how much you loved each other. And I know now that the reason I let things happen with Veruca and why things went wrong with us was me. Not the wolf, not really, but me, Oz. I was afraid." Oz gripped Willow's hand tighter looking at the wall instead of her face.

"I was afraid I would hurt you, or that I wasn't good enough for you. And I was afraid that I would lose myself in the wolf. I was afraid to ask for help when things started to feel out of control. And, when I started feeling things that should have belonged only to the wolf coming out other times, like hearing things and smelling things I shouldn't have been able to and how I felt around Veruca, I should have talked to you. I should have talked to somebody, but I shut everyone out, especially you. It took the ghost of the person who had more of you than I ever did and a crazy scientist with a werewolf fetish, to finally make me realize it."

Oz closed his eyes. "I thought I needed to handle everything alone, and I thought that I wasn't doing enough to make sure you didn't get hurt. And, now I realize that I should never have shut you out." He opened his eyes, looking at her. "And, I also realize that I am really glad that you and Tara found each other. I know now that she was able to give you something that I wouldn't have been able to. I know now that there was no way that I could have stayed. Not because of the wolf, but because of me. I couldn't accept the wolf, so I didn't believe that you could accept it, me, either, and I wasn't willing to give you the choice. I needed to learn to accept help." Oz took her other hand in his, so that he was holding both and turning slightly so as to look her fully in the face. "Willow. Will you help me?"

Willow squeezing his hands and laying her forehead against his, simply said, "Yes."

~End


End file.
